Restraining Revenge
by RatherEccentric
Summary: Well...hello. This document documents the current position of Randall. He's planning something that'll get them back - get them all back. This documents his battle with his seemingly non - existant morals, and his discovery of an conniving, more vengeful
1. Back to Work

_Hey guyses. What a nice little Randall - Fan hang out this site is!_

_This is an updated, edited version of the origional story. Much it the same, save for a little more description. _

_Please R+R and tell me what I could do better - and hopefully what I did well:p. Thanks, all!_

The terrible reek of the bayou events still stuck to Randall's reptilian mind. Waking up that morning, an impending sense of complete and utter humiliation wafted in the air -

something he was not used to.. Something else for everybody at Monster's Inc to scoff at today. Not even the call of the classic Big Band music radiating from the bizarre

radio beside his bed could make his outlook any brighter. A wise man once said: "When you fall off the horse, you get back on."

However, if you have been -

flogged raw by a particularily powerful redneck,

have nearly escaped a pot of Gumbo,

Waded through a filthy swamp for a matter of days

Gossiped about, Shunned, jeered at,

and now smell like you've been flogged by a redneck, narrowly escaped a pot of gumbo, made a kiddie pool out of a swamp -

Most likely you'rea considerable amount less likely to get back on the horse. Randall's determination would not be frayed.

However, his pride could be.

He drew a deep breath in.The constant chatter of the lobby seeped through even the heavy glass doors of the factory, and he had a hunch it was mostly about him. The

soft morning sunshine poured through the many windows, almost trying to assure him that the day would not be useless.

Pushing open the doors, the floor went almost silent. The only voice above a suspicious whisper was Celia's squeaking greetings to big boss callers. He smiled. This was

what he missed! The fear and cowers of monsters was positive fuel. Every cower, every twitch, every step back was absolute beauty. The factory looked much the same as

it used to, however its maturity was obliterated. Baloons, streamers and "joke of the day" banners drove every ounce of the classy, sophisticated decor that used to

be.Today's read: "One in fifteen people are sociopaths. If you don't know any, it's you."

Drinking in this new and considerably tacky scenery, he glanced around the room. The monsters each pretended to be merely attending to their everyday activities, but

shot quite obvious and lengthy gawks. He didn't mind. Being the center of attention - and source of intimidation was perfectly fine with him. Walking towards the candy

machines, he lost their attention by his calm movements. Mr. Boggs then made like the B.C. Conservative party and vanished.

The soft morning sunshine poured through the many windows, almost trying to assure him that the day would not be useless.

"The guy's a killer! I honestly can't believe they let him back. What's more - Fungus took him! That little shimp has some guts, I'll tell you that."

said a rather hefty slug - like creature, his voice returned to its normal pitch now that the threat was gone.

"Killer...Not a clown?" he sneered, and wandered amongst the crowd. He spied Needleman and Smitty in a deserted hallway branching off from the atrium, the two social

outcasts that would shiver if they were in a one hundred mile radius of Randall Boggs.

" - I'm not worried. He's a weenie, remember? Sulley took him out with one punch."

He wished the every zit and blemish the world had to offer on them. Not true! he thought. Wait...it was a three year old human girl. Still - nothing like a little momentum!

"Hello boys!" he hissed slithering into view.

"Oh! Mr - Mr. Boggs we were just talking about you!" cried Needleman in a suddenly reverant tone.

"I thought so." he began to advance on the two of them, fronds perking up in the air, as if preparing for attack. His tail wrapped itself around the throat of the poor little nerd,

as the other looked on in horror, not letting a cracking peep escape from his mouth.

The scales were silky - almost sickeningly so. Most monsters envied them, and at that moment, Needleman couldn't blame them, although he was sure they would have

been much nicer if they weren't drapped on him like a python on a mouse.

"Things are going to change now...You got that?" he said in a tauntingly soft tone, and skidded away, invisable.

Randall was back and -

"All Comedians and Assistants please report to your floors."

it was revenge time. It was against every Sunday School moral he had ever known, but at this point, any sacrifice was a just one in order to get a few moments of sweet,

sweet retrabution.


	2. Classic Flashback

_Thanks Sean Fogle and PitbullLady for the warm welcome, much appreciated:). I believe a flashback for the story is in order as well. _

_Enjoy and feel free to R+R everybody!_

Sluggishly, he complied with the intercom. He - just for a moment, stopped in his tracks and gritted his teeth.

Another migraine. Ever since he came back from the godforsaaken human world, he had them. They lasted such little time, but bit with a ferocious heat.

Every blow from the shovel in turn was a blow to his ego. It met his head thrice, causing his rattled brain even more befuddlement. His eyes

began to close, trying to close out the pain - which was successfully unsuccessful. The flurry of impacts ceased, and his reptile brain began to sort itself out. Where he

was, what happened, and who did this to him. James P. Sullivan and Mike Wazowski. They were hypocrits, that's what they were. Hating him because he was "unfriendly"

and "truly, undeniably evil", when they themselves needed a little lesson in forbearance. He'd give it to them. A fire erupted inside Randall that moment, a fire that would

drive him to do the unthinkable.

He opened his eyes and met those of a young boy near the age of thirteen.

"Ma'! The croc opened his eyes! Ma'!"

Randall stood up, arched his back and let out a blood - curdling roar. The child screamed and hid his wee face in the chesterfield he had been sitting on.

The monster flashed the boy a toothy grin goodbye, and dashed out the door of the small trailer.

He scuttled along on his belly, caressing the mud and grime with his scales. It was repulsive - being the generally cleanly monster he was. His mind was elsewhere.

Sullivan, Wazowski and Waternoose occupied him. These thoughts were broken however by the sudden harrowing pain that engulfed his entire body. Cuts and bruises from

the barrage of shovel strikes practically enveloped him. One particular cut that was placed right inbetween his chameleon - like eyes, just below his "frond line" one could call

it burned with almost the ferocity of Randall's nearly mad loathing for them all. Every monster who ever set foot in Monster's Incorperated! His blood began to boil. He thrust

every branch that blocked his way roughly to the side. His heart raced, he was almost at a run now...

He stopped abruptly and smoothed his fronds back. He had to restrain himself, or he was dead for sure.

"For heaven's sake! I'm a raving lunatic!" he muttered to himself.

"Continue like this and I'm on Monstropolis' Most Wanted." He calmed himself. The murderous hate he felt was boiling down to just pure loathing.

We limped a while further, until he came upon a truck halted by the side of the road, its human outside talking to another who seemed to own the convertable parked a few

meters in front.

He blended into his surroundings, as not to be seen.

Truthfully, he was amazed this ability wasn't snatched away from him. During his pummeling, he could feel himself mentally fighting for it. He valued it more than anything

he had in his life, and refused to lose it. Refused. He gritted his teeth throughout the whole ordeal, not allowing his dignity to be shattered even more by the loss of the

power that made him the second most frightening monster in Monstropolis.

He crawled up to the fully open window and peered inside. Nobody in...and the key in ignition! He made one of his smooth lunges into the passenger seat of the vehicle,

and prepared to snatch the wheel. It didn't look unlike his automobile in the monster world...it just wasn't as nice. He nearly had his right hand on it when the driver's door

opened.

_Muaha! Cliff - Hanger. Hopefully this chapter will be an imporvement on the last. I'm feeling rather good about it, however I'm sure I'll look back on it, horrified at what I _

_did:P. Thanks for reading! _


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